It’s hot and raining hard, the wind is whipping, yet the sun shines as if to say, “Not today, biatch!” I am a gay male and have had no problems discussing this with my father or my mother when she was alive. Family and friends call me JJ, short for Jerry Jr. I’m eighteen years old and the only child born to Jerry and Viola Madison. My mom passed from breast cancer when I was thirteen years old, and it’s been just Dad and me since her death. I realize that the storm outside will never overshadow the storm that brews within me. As I dress for church, I wonder if I should grace the pews of Burning Bush Baptist Church with my presence. That thought is short-lived. I will go because I love the Lord and singing in the choir. Most of the congregation will look at me with disgust written all over their faces, while the others act as if I don’t exist. When I sing, I notice they all jump to their feet, catching the Holy Spirit, dancing and shouting as if He sent me to bless them with my voice.
Since before I was born, the Bible was rewritten, misquoted, and wrongly translated by heathens and sanctimonious hypocrites. “God doesn’t make mistakes.” Church folks are quick to say this. Praising his name and giving glory to all he does. The same people are quick to say, “God loves all his children.” And then they call me an abomination. If God made man in his image, why am I frowned upon? We are all human.


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